


Savage Seas

by Dvatonyska



Series: Her Majesty's Secret Service [1]
Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Adventure, Banter, Elsewhere Fic, Gen, Inspired by Zootopia (2016), Mystery, Original Character(s), Post-Zootopia (2016), Secret Agency, Spies, tropical island
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:47:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23261959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dvatonyska/pseuds/Dvatonyska
Summary: In the top secret Hyams Abbey Royal Espionage Service, or HARES for short, an uneasy partnership forms between a naïve Northern hare and a well-experienced but stubborn vixen. We follow them as they investigate reports that on a Polynesian island: the local mammals are turning savage, similarly to the events of the Nighthowler Crisis in Zootopia, and along with the help of the local chief constable - it's up to Jack and Skye to solve it.
Series: Her Majesty's Secret Service [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1701232
Comments: 54
Kudos: 27





	1. Put The Hare in HARES

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to TheBlueberryCarrots for the cover art.

**Leeds, West Yorkshire, United Kingdom**

"You've gotta be joking, Alfa. I mean I get this is called HARES but that don't mean you should be hiring… well, hares," The Bengal fox said, looking at her bovine superior with an exasperated expression. 

"Agent Skye… Remember how apprehensive others were when you joined our ranks, don't be so harsh."

"Well that's not really the same though - is it, A? I mean like, realistically - how's it gonna work? No offence to him of course, I'm no stranger to prejudice, but my lot are kinda better suited for this type of work than him."

The sound of the clock ticking had the same energy as a chorus of crickets. The bull sighed, filing some paperwork in his hooves and looking up at the stubborn fox, "Skye, tell me what prey did in the Savage Era."

"Well, sort of… Run, hide and…" 

"Exactly. I’d wager a good 50% of your work falls under that category. Now, Savage has shown promise in his cases so far, he’s certainly impressed me for what little experience he has and I think you two will work well together."

The vulpine rolled her eyes, scowling, "Ugh and that name… What's that about anyway?" 

"Just a little joke. Anyway, I'm on a tight schedule and I've told you all I've needed to. Meet Agent Savage in the lounge and fill him in."

She sighed, getting off the swivel chair and leaving her boss' office. 

The vixen's tail swished from side-to-side in annoyance as she moved through the winding red brick building. She didn’t know much about Agent “Savage” but with what she did, it wasn’t something to enthuse about. This jackrabbit had managed to get into Britain’s most covert branch of government just because he happened to be in the right place at the right time? That’s not skill, that's luck. 

Frustrated, she kept on moving through the corridors. If it weren't for the sake of secrecy, HARES probably would've moved base rather than just hopelessly refurbishing an old Victorian country house unfit for modern appliances. But then, I suppose you can’t really put “Hyams Abbey” in the name without it being there. That being said, the inside of the base was at least _mostly_ hollowed out into some kind of anachronistic office building. She sighed, walking into the lounge.

The lounge was comfortable and same as several other rooms in the complex, contrastingly modern. Some sofas, a couple of armchairs, a snooker table - honestly it was like someone just took a chunk out of a community centre and forced it inside the abbey’s bygone shell. A bear, two wolves and a lynx were at the snooker table, while two sheep sat at the armchairs chatted to each other. The sand-coloured vixen scanned through the space, spotting a young, striped hare sat on one of the sofas. His foot thumped in concentration as he worked through a crossword. 

Skye cleared her throat, "Oi, flops." 

The hare looked up, "Oh, hey there. You my new partner?" He replied in a Northern accent. 

"...You're a Geordie?" She asked, her brows furrowing. 

"Well, Durham, actually - if we're being technical about it, we’re Pitmatic. Geordie’s more like Newcastle." 

The fox shrugged, "Basically a Geordie."

“Erm - Agent Savage, but you can call me Jack,” He offered his paw out to shake.

She shook it reluctantly, “Call me Skye.”

He gave her a slight smile, which she didn’t return.

“So, erm… Alfa said you’d fill me in?” Jack asked hopefully. 

“Yep. You familiar with New Mercia?” She asked, reading through something on her phone. 

“Tropical island in the pacific, one of our overseas territories, has a rare species of jellyfi-”

“Yeah, alright, it’s not a holiday, thumping-foot. So, something similar to the Nighthowler Crisis in America is beginning to show up with the locals there, and being a popular honeymoon destination - that’s not great for the mainland either. They’ve done some tests and the symptoms don’t seem to match up with the victims of the nighthowler serum.” 

“So where’s it coming from?” Jack asked, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s the thing," She started, "We dunno. They’ve been trying tests upon tests but it’s untraceable” 

“Huh…”

“Our plane leaves at 9:30, that gives you a good 5 hours to pack everything you need.”

Several hours later, they met up at the airport. The striped jackrabbit heaved his luggage into the cargo holder, grunting.

"Need help, Geordie Shore?" Skye asked in a patronising tone.

"I'm fine." He pushed the last of it in, climbing onto the jet and looking around. Since it was only designed for a maximum of four people, it was a lot less compact, with more room given for living space. Definitely a lot more legroom, "You know what, this is fancy, eh? Only plane I've been on is EasyJet." 

The fox raised an eyebrow, "So the cases you've done so far have all been… Here?"

"Oh, until now, yeah." 

She hung her head low, cursing under her breath.

The flight was long. And awkward. Jack opted to going back to his crossword and Skye put a pair of earphones in and started watching one of the in-flight films. After about an hour, she eventually broke the silence, “Well, go on then - what’s the 'Savage' name about?” 

He looked up from his crossword, “Oh, well… My real name’s Saveridge, Delta read it wrong once and it just kind of stuck.”

Her eyes narrowed, “...So it’s nothing to do with your character, or anything you did, you just… It’s just… Saveridge sounds like savage?” 

Jack didn’t really have a response, “Well, what about your name then?”

“Skye? Well, Isle of Skye. One of my first proper missions was hunting down a serial killer called Rabbie Sutherland. I scoured through the whole island for 4 days, every loch and field, and eventually found him hiding in a cave. Got a commendation and all that."

"Oh. That's… That's pretty cool, Skye. Feel a little stupid about mine now, eheh…"

"Yeah," She responded in dismissal.

"So, uhh… What's your real name, then?" 

The vixen looked at him as if he'd just asked her to lick a car tire, "We're not there yet, flopsy." 

"But we're at ‘flopsy’ I guess." 

She gave him a quick, passive-aggressive smile before saying, "D'ya know how out of depth you are here?" 

"I mean…" 

"No, like, really. Actually. You are the least qualified person Alfa could've possibly chosen to be my partner. 'You two will fit well together' I wanna fucking smash his head in for saying that. I mean honestly, what the fuck do you even know about this job?" 

"Well, I know _what_ it is. We do the jobs the government don't want the public knowing about."

She nodded, "Sure. Jobs which are dangerous, life-threatening, could hold serious repercussions to Britain and the rest of the world - I mean, you really think you can handle that, haddaway?" 

Jack interjected, "Well, to be fai-" 

"No, 'to be fair' nothing. Word of advice, shut your fucking mouth and stay out of my way. Stand and smile. That's your job."

The two mammals glared at each other for a few seconds, before both staring forwards in silence.

The next day, Jack wearily opened his heavy eyelids, groaning. He looked around, they were still on the plane and still in the air. He rubbed his eyes, getting up and walking over to the cockpit. He knocked on the door a few times.

“Come in," A voice replied.

The hare stepped inside, a raccoon and a boar were behind the controls. The boar had a pair of headphones in, but the raccoon just had them rested on his head. He looked at the hare expectantly. 

“Erm… So how long have we been flying?” Jack asked.

“Oh, about a day now.” The raccoon replied calmly.

“Wait, what? Wh- how long do we have left?

“About an hour, you’ve slept through most of it. Not as much as your partner, though. She’s been sleeping like a _log.”_

Jack nodded.

“Oh, and by the way - Agent Delta’s been trying to contact you.”

“...Well how’s he gonna do that when I’m on a plane?”

“The jet has WiFi. Tablet's in the lounge.”

“Oh… That makes sense, heh.”

He walked back out to the main cabin, looking around. His eyes quickly darted around the room, until he spotted two chairs and a table with a tablet built into it across from where he and Skye were sitting. Jack took a seat, noticing the earphones by the screen and putting them in. His paw quickly searched through “recent calls” eventually pressing the number he recognized as Delta’s and starting a video call.

“Oh, there you are, Jack,” The badger said as soon as he answered.

“Hey, D.” He waved slightly.

“I was just checking in on you. Plane journey fine? Not too long?” 

“Nah, I slept through most of it…”

“Ah, I see. How are you and Skye getting along?” 

“Erm…” Jack stood up slightly, looking over at where Skye was to make sure she was still asleep, “Not good, to be honest.” 

“Alfa did say she was a little, uh… Cautious about having you as a partner.” 

“ _She hates me.”_ Jack almost sounded desperate.

Delta gave a slight chuckle.

“Like… She’s got this massive thing about me not being qualified for the job. _Really_ has a go at me for it.”

The badger sat back slightly, “Well… If it makes you feel any better… I’d say she’s jealous in a way. To be honest, she only got the job because she begged me for it.”

“...Wait, really?”

He scoffed slightly as if it was common knowledge, “She was a secretary who managed to work her way up from a little job in Parliament. Basically just a paper shuffler, to be honest.”

Jack was trying to hold back laughter, “Skye? Like, “action spy badass” Skye?” 

“It is a little funny looking at her now.”

“Heh, definitely… Alright, well - thanks, Delta. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Perfect. Good luck, Savage.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you reading who aren't from the U.K, some words and references might be unfamiliar to you so I'm gonna do a glossary of those as best I can:
> 
> EasyJet - A budget airline based in Luton.  
> Geordie - Someone from the Northeast of England, typically from areas like Newcastle.  
> Geordie Shore - The U.K equivalent of the reality TV show Jersey Shore - Skye uses this an insult to Jack by comparing him to the people on the show.  
> Haddaway - Not like the musician, reference to the stereotypical Geordie phrase "Haddaway, man!" meaning something along the lines of "You're joking" - also used by Skye to insult him for where he's from.  
> "Has a go at me" - To attack someone physically or verbally.  
> "I wanna smash his fucking head in" - She would like cause physical harm to the subject of the sentence.  
> Pitmatic - Although sometimes classified as Geordie, accents of people from the mining counties of Durham and Northumberland can also be called Pitmatic or Yakka instead of Geordie.  
> Snooker - Type of cue sport.


	2. Have Mercia

**Whiti Kowhai, New Mercia**

An hour passed and the plane landed. Somehow, Skye was still sleeping. Jack nudged her a couple of times, "Fuck off…" She groaned, half awake. 

Jack sighed, "We're here, Skye."

She opened an eye slightly, stretching, "Alright, well let's get off the plane then, Billy Elliot."

The two climbed out, getting their luggage. Jack schlepped along a massive suitcase, which was a little less than twice his size. 

Skye raised her eyebrow, looking over at it, "Fuckin' hell, stripes, you got a Fiat 500 in there?" 

"Well, I need all the protection I can get. Obviously I need sunscreen, sting cream…"

"Sting cream?"

"Well, on the coast of New Mercia you'll find the very rare Pacific Witch Jellyfish, otherwise known by its binomial name  _ Venenum Circes,  _ named aft-" 

She cut him off, "Yeah, alright, mate. I'll watch the Attenborough when I get home."

"Well, don't come running to me when-" 

"What's that? Y'know I'm trying to listen, but I can't hear you over the sound of your unbridled virginity."

Jack huffed, glaring at her. It was sunny, at least. New Mercia was very much a tropical, postcard kind of island - the water was a blue sheet with rows of translucent hexagons, the beaches were gold blankets and the wooden buildings were laced around undisturbed emerald jungles and wilderness. 

Jack cleared his throat, "Okay… First things first, we need to book a hotel." 

"Are we being picky or will any one do?" Skye asked.

He thought for a second, "I guess it doesn't matter." 

"Alright, well, there's one." She gestured to a shack with a sign reading 'Red Claw Inn'. 

When they walked in, the floorboards creaked a little. Already off to a great start. A light sand coloured dog sat at the receptionist desk.

"Scuse me," Skye began, "I'd like to book a room, please." 

The receptionist looked up at her, then between her and Jack, "I'm guessing you want a double bed?" 

"...No? Two separate beds, we're not-" 

"None of my business," The dog cut her off, "Your room is upstairs, room 7." She handed them a pair of keys.

"Thanks," Jack added.

The fox and hare took their luggage up to the room. Jack took a seat on his bed, moving a little as it sprang.

Skye groaned a little, "Try to be still when you go to sleep. I don't wanna have to deal with that springing." 

"Not my fault," Jack responded.

She kissed her teeth.

"So… Is there someone we need to talk to or…?" Jack queried.

"We've got an informant we need to meet at the asylum, a police officer. We don't have to be there for another two hours now, so we have some time to kill." 

Jack nodded. 

Skye's stomach grumbled,"Hm… Dunno about you, but I'm hungry enough that I'd eat  _ you _ ." 

Jack scoffed, "Hey, slow down there. We only met yesterday."

"You got no meat on you anyway," She said, poking his lanky chest. 

"Oi!" He retaliated.

Skye led her partner out of the inn, walking down the bronze wood pier. The crowd was a mix of tourists and natives, although the overall exotic aesthetic of the shops made it clear who it was catering to. Because of that, there was a slight tackiness to the place - especially when you had names like 'Sunshine Beach Parlor' and 'Blue Sea Fishing Supplies` at least there weren't pirate motifs on every three buildings like a sea town back in England.

"Hamonga's Beach Café - that looks good." She gestured towards a sign with a smiling fish and a grill. 

"Looks… A little pred-centric." 

"Well, that seems to add up…" She responded, referring to the native kurī dog population they could see walking around the pier.

Jack sighed, "Well, I suppose I'll have to put up with it then."

The aroma of the café was filled with all the sorts of scents you'd expect. Lobster, tuna, octopus, squid, swordfish - or at least that's what Skye could smell, Jack on the other hand, had no idea what was going on. The vixen scanned through the menu, humming and hawing over the different options. Jack picked up his menu as well, searching for a vegetarian option. 

"Think I'll go with a tropic lobster burger," Skye concluded, "You made a decision?" 

Jack sighed, “Erm… The only vegetarian option is taro leaves cooked in coconut milk." 

Skye shrugged, "Better than nothing." 

Jack hesitantly agreed and they made their orders. Skye eagerly dug into her lobster burger but Jack wasn't as sure with his. He was sure it was probably very nice and very well cooked, but to him it looked just a  _ little _ too much like compost for his appetite. 

"Y'know… I've never been a massive fan of seafood, but I can get behind this." Skye muffled through a mouthful. 

Jack nodded, deciding he might as well make conversation, "What do you usually have, like?" 

"Ooh, well… Depends, sort of. KFC's nice, Nando's is good too but not as good. Burger Pride's peng but well expensive, so I usually go to Bug Burga instead." 

"...So just fast food?" 

"Nah, nah. Also, like, mealworm döner, Thai curry, chicken tikka - ooh, onion bhajis actually as well. What about you?" 

"Uh… Well I cook at home, so my favourites are veggie shepherd's pie or Sunday roast. Then, uhh… I guess if I'm ordering food it'll usually be a cheese and onion pie or something from Greggs. There's a good pizza place near where I live. Chips and gravy-" 

"Wait, chips and gravy is actually a thing?" Skye asked, puzzled. 

"...Yeah?" 

She tried not to laugh a little, "I thought that was just you lot taking the piss!"

"No, heh. We'll have gravy, like, and then the scraps leftover from frying the chips on top." 

The fox winced a little. 

"It's tasty!" Jack said, defending himself. 

She chuckled a little, "Yeah, yeah. You gonna touch your food at all or…?" 

"...To be honest I don't really like coconut. Plus I had a sandwich on the plane." 

Skye looked at him blankly, before getting up, "Alright, let's get going then. We've got an asylum to visit."

"You haven't paid yet, though." Jack pointed out.

Skye patted her paws down her body, "Welp, looks like I forgot to bring my wallet." 

Jack rubbed his forehead in annoyance, taking out his wallet, leaving a couple quid on the table and leaving.

The asylum was unlike the tourist trap beach huts you saw along the pier. It was concealed in a clearing within the jungle, a concrete beast hidden from view amongst the cloaking leaves. A kurī dog in casual summer clothes stood outside the entrance, taking a drag from a cigarette.

Skye cleared her throat to get his attention, "I'm Agent Skye, this is Agent Savage. We work for the British government." 

"Timoti Watihana, chief constable. Echo told me you were coming." He shook both their paws. 

"Nice to meet you, Timoti." Jack noted.

The dog put the cigarette between his teeth, opening the door and holding it for the two agents as they entered the building. The floor was metallic and cold, the walls high and wide, the lights were neatly dotted down the ceiling in a dim line of light. 

"Well, they know how to make this place cozy." Skye quipped. 

"So where are the savage patients?" Jack asked.

"Primals are in the east corridor." Timoti answered, pointing towards it with his cigarette.

Skye's ears twitched. The fox's acute hearing was picking up a noise. Shouting. Yelling. Screaming, even. Jack could hear it as well, giving Skye a concerned look and nodding as they began to walk down the corridor.

Sounds of footsteps and muttering filled the air. They looked around cautiously, starting to reach the cells. Skye peered into one, a forlorn looking dog sat down on his bed. She cocked her head slightly and squinted her eyes, getting a closer look at him. He didn't _ look  _ savage. Snap! Suddenly, the dog was snarling and leaping at her, restrained by the glass wall. A constant low growl was heard, the creature’s sharp teeth were bared and foam oozed out of its mouth. Skye backed up slightly.

"And that's what makes these ones worse. Wouldn't even be able to tell until it was too late." The constable explained. 

"Right, heh…" Skye replied, panting. 

Jack looked it up and down, particularly its mouth, "All of the foam and that… It couldn't be some type of rabies?" 

An unfamiliar voice spoke from behind them, making the hare jump, "You're right, it couldn't. The rabies vaccine has been mandatory since 1985." 

They whipped round, seeing a middle-aged kurī dog in a lab coat staring at them. The little light that was in the hallway gleamed through his glasses. 

"Oh, this is Dr. Karaka. District Medical Officer of Whiti Kowhai." Timoti told them.

"Pleasure to meet the both of you." The doctor said, shaking both the agents' paws.

"So, you're the one in charge of the tests, I s'pose?" Skye asked.

Karaka nodded, "You'd be right. So far, very little is known. Inconsistent triggers into savageness, amnesia, no trace of where it came from. It could even be a disease with what we know at this stage."

Jack looked at one of the patients, "You don't think we could interview a few of them, do you?" 

He shrugged, "Well, I wouldn't say there's a whole lot they can answer - but you can certainly try." 

Skye reluctantly stepped over to a cell, looking the patient up and down, "Hello?”

His weak eyes met hers. The dog wore a scruffy and worn baseball shirt, on some stage it was probably red paired with bright blue but by now it had deteriorated into grey and maroon. In a coarse voice it replied, “Yes…?”

“Fuck me, you look hungry… Do they not feed you a lot?” 

“The more voracious their appetite, the more aggressive they tend to be.” Dr. Karaka explained.

“That’s inhumane!” Skye said in shock, crossing her arms.

“No…” The dog in the cell began, “I understand why they do it… It’s okay…” 

She shook her head, sighing. Jack spoke up, “How much do you remember of when you first went savage?”

“I don’t… That’s… That’s the worst part, I can’t remember anything…”

“Nothing at all?” Jack asked.

The patient shook his head, “Nothing. Earliest I remember since I first started going savage was waking up here. Cold. Hungry.”

Dr Karaka adjusted his glasses, “This is the same with all of them.” 

Skye crouched, examining him like some caged creature, “How can you describe the sensation of going savage? If at all.” 

The dog exhaled, “Everything tenses up. My heart beats faster, my claws extend. It’s like a surge of lightning shoots through my veins. Something inside of me takes over, moving me like a puppet. After about a minute, I’ve lost all self-control and it’s that… Thing.” 

She nodded, turning to Dr. Karaka, “Where do you normally find them?” 

“Well… Usually they cause havoc on the pier. Sometimes, they’ll turn themselves in. The only place that I’ve found them more than once is at the stone monument.” 

“The Stone Monument?” Jack quizzed with a curious tone. 

Timoti nodded, slouched against a wall “It’s an old tribal heritage site up on the hill. I’ll take you to it.” He stubbed his cigarette out, strolling down the hall. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As with the previous chapter, I've made a glossary for terms that may be unfamiliar to readers not from the UK. 
> 
> Attenborough - As in David Attenborough, famous for making documentaries on animals.  
> Billy Elliot - Titular character of the 2000 film which was later adapted into a stage musical. Billy Elliot was from County Durham, same as Jack.  
> Chicken tikka - Chicken tikka masala, a dish of chunks of roasted, marinated chicken in a tomato-based curry.  
> Greggs - A bakery chain based in the UK.  
> Nando's - A South African restaurant serving Portuguese food such as peri-peri chicken, very popular in the UK.  
> Peng - Generic adjective for something that's nice.  
> "She kissed her teeth" - Action which displays contempt made by sucking air through teeth.  
> Shepherd's Pie - A French (Hachis Parmentier) and English pie with mince meat (not in Jack's case though) and a crust of mash potato.  
> Sunday roast - A typical main meal with gravy, roast potatoes, Yorkshire puddings, various vegetables and usually (although not in Jack's case) meat such as turkey.


	3. Primal Time

They passed through the bushes, reaching an old stone monolith of three giant dog heads. Jack looked at it for a bit, "Yeah, I wasn't really expecting anything else," He said with a chuckle.

Timoti took a drag from his cigarette, "So, tell me… What is your plan here exactly?"

"Well," Skye started, "Basically, my line of thinking - most of them can't remember much, but if we catch one fresh and ask them, there's more of a chance of them remembering a little?" 

He shrugged, putting the cigarette between his teeth and getting out a pair of binoculars, scanning the area like a hawk, “We could be here for a while…” 

Jack’s fur pricked up like a porcupine. He couldn’t see anything but something was definitely off. The hare’s ears twitched, picking up on some quiet rustling in a nearby bush. Ever so slightly he heard a rustle. Skye narrowed her eyes, looking at him with a frown. He looked back at her, his nose twitching almost as quickly as his heartbeat, “Run.” Jack legged it, bolting down the hill and into the jungle. A foaming, growling beast arched its back and leapt out from the bush. 

Timoti dropped his binoculars and ran, Skye following him. Jack was just ahead of them, sprinting through the labyrinth of trees. The primal dog snapped and snarled, chasing after the trio. The jungle twisted and turned, the three quickly darting off into different directions. The kurī stopped. He snarled, spitting and sniffing, growling quietly as it hunted after their scents. 

Lingering in the air was the scent of a fox. The dog barrelled after the smell on all-fours in rapid pursuit of its target. Skye heard it coming, but was too late - the beast pinned her to the tree. Her heart pounded, the dog’s open jaws hovering over her face. Unable to move her arms, she closed her eyes - accepting fate, waiting and then… Wham! The kurī fell face flat in front of her. Jack stood over it, panting and putting his leg down, "Axe kick. It's a-" 

"I know. The SAS taught us Krav Maga.” 

He nodded, “So…should we find somewhere to put this one or what should we-”

“Well, first we need to find… Fuckin… Timmy… Timbo…” 

“Timoti?” The hare asked.

She clicked her fingers, “Yeah, him. Can’t just leave him in a jungle now, can we?”

“Think I saw him head that way,” Jack noted, pointing deeper into the jungle.

Skye nodded, rolling over the kurī dog's body.

Jack raised an eyebrow, "...What are you doing?" 

"Picking up the body, the fuck does it look like I'm doing? Keep up, mate. Grab the legs." 

Jack sighed, heaving up the legs as Skye carried his upper torso. They carried the body through the jungle, searching around for Timoti. The hare struggled a lot more than the fox did, groaning slightly as he had to manoeuvre backwards, looking over his shoulder on occasion so he didn't bump into anything.

Skye groaned, "Well, g'on then. Put your back into it." 

"Well, sorry, I'm not exactly a heavy lifting species, like." Jack retaliated.

"I know. I wouldn't have chosen you either, but fuckin politics, innit? So I'm stuck lifting a body in a jungle with you." 

"Oh, shut up already." A voice said, cutting them off. Timoti walked out from a bush, covered in bruises and cuts.

Jack sighed in relief, "Okay, well at least we found Timoti."

"More like I found you. Wouldn't be able to find anyone else bickering like a married couple in a jungle." 

"We are  _ not  _ a couple." Jack said, defensively.

"Fuck's sake, Timbo. Quit being a bellend and help me carry the body."

Timoti lit another cigarette, putting it in-between his teeth and taking over from Jack.

They carried the body back to the local police station, putting the kurī dog in an interrogation room. Skye got a clipboard and pen, taking a seat at the table. 

"Should I wake him up, like?" Jack asked gingerly.

Skye rolled her eyes, "Why do northerners do that?" 

"What? Wake people up?" 

"No, say "like" all the time, even when it doesn't make sense. What does like even mean at the end of a sentence?" 

"It's just how we talk, love," Jack replied simply, "Anyway you didn't answer my question." 

"Yeah, g'on then." 

Jack nudged the dog, ready to jump back in case he was still savage. The kurī stirred, looking around. As his eyelids heaved open he immediately jumped alert. His eyes darted around the room, as his heartbeat raced, "Ko ha au? He harako ahau!" He blurted out, panting. 

Jack calmed him down, "Shh, shh… You're safe. You haven't done anything wrong, we just need to question you on something. Okay?" 

The dog slowly nodded, steadily calming down.

"Could you tell us your name?" Skye queried. 

"Maro Keeti." 

"I'm assuming you're going through some memory loss?" 

"Yes, I… It's all fuzzy, I cannot… It's much of a blur…"

"I know it's difficult, but I'm gonna ask you to try your best to remember for me, okay?" 

He sighed, nodding with no real confidence.

"What's the last thing you  _ can _ remember?" Jack interjected. 

Maro rubbed his temples, groaning, "I'm a fisherman, and I'd been out sea this afternoon. I got a decent sized catch and I went my way back home. Then it's… Not so clear. There are… Glimpses. Yes. But… They're difficult to make out. Afterwards it's completely blank until I'm here." 

Skye looked up from her clipboard, while writing, "Do you think you may have been attacked at your home?" 

"It's possible… I'm not very sure, I can't say that with any certainty… All I know is that where it ends…" 

Jack looked to Skye, she nodded at him and looked back to Maro, "Would you like to know what’s happened to you?

The dog looked up at her weakly, “I’ve gone primal haven’t I…?” 

She sighed, nodding solemnly and patting his shoulder, “I’m sorry, mate.” 

He puts his face in his paws, distraught.

Jack came over to him, “Maro, you gave us some very useful information. Because of you, we can start to work out how and why this is happening.” 

Maro sighed, nodding slowly. 

“You’ll get through this, okay?” 

“Okay…”

The hare gave him a quick smile, looking to Skye for confirmation. She nodded, getting up and leaving with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much this time round. 
> 
> Bellend - The head of a penis, used as an insult for someone perceived as annoying or irritating. Synonymous with dickhead.  
> "Legged it" - Ran away.


	4. Meet The Engineer

"Sorry if I'm being a downer here, but what exactly did he tell us that was 'very useful?' Skye asked with a raised eyebrow, walking along the police station corridor.

"Last thing he remembers, he was at his home." Jack replied. 

"So…?" 

"So… That tells us that whoever's doing this aren't shy of just kidnapping straight from home and that," The hare explained, "Just… Not sure exactly how we can use that information…" 

Skye stopped in her tracks, "Think I know a bloke who could help us out there…"

When they arrived back at their room, Skye got one of the HARES tablets out and put it screen-up on the table.

Jack frowned, "So, he's like Q?" 

Skye rolled her eyes, "Well, if 'Q’ is short for ‘queuing up to hear that exact same fucking question from every single rookie that meets him’ then yeah. He's like Q."

The fox pressed around on the screen, setting up a video link. A shabby looking , middle-aged raccoon in a white vest sat in a garage, staring through the screen at them. 

Skye cleared her throat, "Hey, Paco. Got a job for you, mate." 

"Live to fuckin' serve… Oi, who's that little mush?" He chuckled, pointing to Jack. 

"Agent Savage, her partner." He replied, simply.

The raccoon snorted, "Fuck me sideways, got a Northern boychik wiv ya. Anyway, what's your schtuk then, eh, china?" His way of speaking was… Odd. His glottal stops and silent Hs all made him sound like a proper East London geezer but his rolled Rs and frequent lisp were both characteristically Spanish. On top of all that, his vocabulary was littered with Yiddish.

"We need some sort of… Concealed surveillance, if you catch my drift. Lots of different houses." She answered, cautiously. 

"What?" Jack exclaimed, shocked.

"Shut it, flopsy." 

"No, when you said- I didn't think you meant we were gonna… I mean that's-" 

"Spying?" She asked mockingly, "Yeah, that's sort of our job really." 

The gadgeteer on the other side of the call groaned, "Cheese it, you two! Gordon Bennett… Break the glass later, will ya? How's you want them concealed?" 

She thought, leaning back, "Well…That's up to you." 

Paco scoffed, "Well, no, it fucking isn't, sunshine. I create the blueprints, then I send to one of my manufacturing companies, then that go onto some Chinese blokes to schlep out the tchotchkes. It's your job to gimme the brief." 

"Well, sorry, I've had a long day. Sorry if I'm not in the mood for thinking of ways to design secret cameras while I'm about to be eaten alive." Skye retorted. 

The raccoon threw his head back, "I'm not here to hear ya kvetching, woman." 

"Well, just come up with something then, you fat wanker." 

He narrowed his eyes at her, "Okay, one - I've gone keto. Two - where are you?" 

"What's that matter for?" The fox asked, perplexed.

"Well, I dunno - it looks as if you in a fuckin' tiki bar, so I'm not sure what to make that'll blend in." 

"New Mercia." She told him.

"Fuck's that?" 

Jack interjected, "It's a Polynesian island, one of our overseas territories." 

"Alright, Palin. Okay, well…" He sat there for a bit, thinking to himself before speaking up again, "...Seeing as you saying it's an overseas territory… You two could pose as… Lightbulb salesmen." 

The hare titled his head, ears flopped forwards.

"Nah, let me explain," Paco started, "So you go from door to door, saying that you're offering them a free one-week trial period for new, long-lasting, easy-fit lightbulbs. Then obviously, inside the lightbulb is a cheeky little camera."

"Obviously." Skye said.

Jack was still a little confused, "Wouldn't the light get in the way of the camera?" 

The engineer sat up, "I've got special lens, guv. Used them for me cameras before, they work a miracle everytime, no porkies. I've got nanti to do today, so I'll get to making them blueprints pronto." 

Skye nodded, "See ya, Paco," She ended the call, sighing.

"Well, he's a charmer." Jack quipped.

"Heh, yeah… Probably the grumpiest bloke who works for HARES." 

"I also didn't understand like… 50% of what he was saying." 

She nodded slightly, "Well… Paco's got an… Interesting background. Basically his dad was a big time Jewish gangster in London. His dad didn't want him getting mixed up in his mess, so he had his family live on his private villa in Spain - guarded by some of his cronies. So… Seeing as Paco learned English as a second-language from Jewish cockney mobsters, he has a somewhat unique way of speaking." 

"Definitely… Yeah, I mean, I could kinda tell it was his second language at points… Does no one correct him or what?" 

She scoffed, "Well, would _you_ fuckin' try it?" 

Jack imagined Paco's snarling death glare, "...Probably not. Fair point." 

"Anyway, so… Even after he updates us on the blueprints, we're gonna have to wait a bit for the bulbs to arrive."

"Lots of time to kill, then?" 

She nodded, stretching. As she did, her stomach let out a low growl.

"...Think getting dinner's first on the agenda, then." She commented. 

They made their way out of the inn, back onto the pier. By this point, the sun had set and the light of the moon shone over the polished wooden surface. The water around them quietly swished, lit by the same glow. 

"Okay, could we _please_ look for a place with salad or just… Some kind of decent vegetarian option?" 

Skye groaned, "Ugh… Fine… There'll be some bollocks like that here somewhere." 

Eventually they found some bollocks - a restaurant called The Seashell. Jack settled for something called an Oranga Koura, a dish of chopped up bananas and seaweed. Skye on the otherhand, had some crayfish and rice, and seeing as it was well into the night and they didn't have any more work to do - the vixen had also treated herself to a Mai Tai. 

As Jack dug in, Skye started talking, "So, we should probably come up with identities for the lightbulb salesmen."

The hare's ears lazily perked up, "What?" 

The Bengal fox took a spoonful of crayfish, "Well, y'know… We do stand out a bit, we should probably get that going early so it seems consistent when we start selling everyone lightbulbs. Gotta come up with fake names."

"I guess… But it's not like anyone knows who we are, anyway, like. We're on a remote island we're probably never gonna go to again, so it doesn't matter if they know our names." 

"Well, maybe, but I'm not having you knowing my name." She answered dryly, taking a sip from her drink.

"...Why not?" 

"Cos… Well, no offence but we're not really gonna meet outside work. Be best if you just know me as Agent Skye." 

That hurt slightly, but then he didn't really like her either.

"Also, think about softening your accent. Probably like Posh or Estuary type of accent, either works." 

He raised an eyebrow, "Why?" 

"Well, we're presenting ourselves as a British company - when most people hear that they expect English, and will probably think you're Scottish if you use your normal voice." 

"Don't be daft. Who's gonna think I'm Scottish?" 

She frowned at him.

"Okay, _aside_ from Americans." 

She shrugged, "Dunno, you'll just probably… Alienate them a bit." 

"Well you're not exactly Ms. Upmarket either." Jack pointed out.

"Yeah, but at least they can tell where I'm from." 

Savage took a sip from his water.

"Anyway, so I think I'll call myself… Cynthia Walker." 

Jack almost choked on his drink. 

"...Yeah, that sounded better in my head. Okay, how about… Amy Langford?" 

Jack shrugged, "That works. I'm still gonna use my real name, though."

Skye nodded, taking a sip from her cocktail.

Jack looked a little uneasy. If he was being honest with her, he'd probably mention that the whole "secret surveillance" thing made him feel uncomfortable - but he knew she'd probably just laugh at him for it. He understood that spying is kind of in the name of the job, but breaching the public's privacy to do so? It was a moral grey area at best. 

He sighed, shaking his head and going back to his meal. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so the way that Paco talks in this chapter is very particular to him specifically and aside from a few phrases like porkies (lies), most of how he talks would also be unfamiliar to an average English person unless they're deeply versed in Cockney Rhyming Slang (along with small bits of Romani and Polari). On top of that, he also uses fair amounts of Yiddish, and I don't think it's within my authority to explain Yiddish. As a result of this, I will not explain any of Paco's dialogue - like Jack you'll just have to infer from context.
> 
> Vest - In a UK context, a vest is a tank-top.  
> Palin - Michael Palin, not Sarah Palin. Former member of Monty Python, and afterwards started doing travel documentaries.  
> Proper East London Geezer - Typical cockney, someone from East London (to any Londoners reading this I'm aware it's more complicated than that, I'm just simplifying it) generally from a working or lower middle class background. It doesn't mean an esteemed gentleman.


	5. Deep Sea Difficulties

A couple of days later, a knock was heard on Jack and Skye's door. The lapine spy lazily dragged himself out of bed, opening it. Timoti nodded at him, "Good morning, Jack."

"Oh, Timoti. Yep… Morning." He replied drowsily.

"I was just checking on you two, is Skye awake?" 

Jack shrugged, shouting into the room, "Skye, are you awake?"

The hare quickly ducked under a pillow launched from the room. 

The kurī chuckled, "So, how is everything? I mean I haven't heard much from you since you interrogated that primal." 

Jack nodded, "Yeah, we figured out a way to try and figure out how it starts. Can't tell you anything, top secret. All I can say is it involves 'lightbulbs'." 

"...So, secret cameras, right?" 

Savage stared forward blankly, contemplating how to react. Punching the dog wasn't _completely_ off the table. 

"Might wanna work on that subtle explanation there." The policehound noted.

"Might do… You won't say anything, right?" 

"Please, I've been an informant for a while - this type of stuff happens all the time. Of course I won't say anything." 

The lagomorph's face was marked with even more horror than when Skye first came up with the plan, "...It's normal?"

"Oi, why does it smell like fags?" The vixen shouted from inside the room. 

"Timoti's here." Jack shouted back. 

She yawned, "Oh, right, yeah…" 

"So when are you getting them installed?" The dog asked casually.

"...Well, we're waiting on the shipment first. So, to be honest, not completely sure." 

"Quite a bit of free time then, eh?"

Jack nodded.

"Well," He clapped his paws together, "In that case, I've got a proposition for you two. How about we pass some time out on the ocean, I've got a boat we ca-" 

"Fuck, you've got a boat? Nice!" Skye sprang out of bed, yelping instantly as she stepped on her own tail. 

"...Yep. I fish as a hobby, I have some scuba suits in there too." 

"Wait, scuba suits?" Jack asked, with the same enthusiasm as Skye. 

Timoti nodded.

"I never got to go scuba diving. Never even really been on holiday before, even. Except for a stag do in Cornwall, that is. Did you know that the Southwest has the perfect climate to grow psilocybin mushrooms?"

"I'll take that as a yes from you two, then?" The dog asked, looking between the two spies. 

"Just give us a bit," Jack replied.

Soon enough, Jack and Skye met with Timoti on the pier. The dog stood alongside his boat - a sleak, white cabin cruiser. 

“Is that a yacht?” Skye asked, looking it over. 

The canine shrugged, giving a so-so hand gesture, “Not exactly, yachts are a bit bigger. This one’s more practical, you can’t get as many people, but you can go faster.” 

Jack climbed on, looking about the place. The cockpit was fairly spacious, with various cupboards and compartments in the walls for storage. On the top, was a small lounge area complete with a fixed coffee table. The bow also had plenty of space for sunbathing or just chatting aimlessly by the sea. In essence, it was a shrunken yacht. 

Skye frowned, looking at the sports bag Jack lugged onto the boat, “What’s all that, then?”

“Well, we could be out here a while so I brought some stuff just in case. Some snacks, sting gel in case of jellyfish…”

She chuckled slightly, “What’s your obsession with jellyfish?” 

“I mean there’s one species here in particular I would not wanna get stung by…”

“You’ll be fine,” Timoti interjected, “The jellyfish only live out across to that island there.” He said, gesturing to it, “And no one goes there. No fish, so… No real use to anyone. Just a bunch of stinging nuisances.” 

Jack shrugged, “Still, better safe than sorry…” 

The dog walked through the cockpit, reaching the helm and taking a sea as he began to bring them out the harbour. Skye idly tapped her fingers against the railing. He’d picked a good day for it - it was about 30 degrees and while it was a little windy, the sun made up for it.

Jack picked out two suits from one of the cabinets. One was a neoprene black wetsuit that was about his size and looked like it had just been taken out of the package - the other was an older-looking, evidently worn down orange suit more around the size of the other two canines on board.

“Yeah, I figured mine wouldn’t fit you so I went out and bought one from one of the tourist shops,” The dog noted.

Jack nodded.

“And then I figured mine would fit Skye if she wanted to go diving as well.”

Skye frowned, “...What? I was supposed to go in that tatty old bollocks?”

“Hey, that was my father’s,” Timoti retaliated.

“Yeah, I can tell. When’s it from, the 70s?” 

The kurī exhaled, getting fed up, “Well you’re not going diving anyway, so what’s your problem?” 

She shrugged, “Fair.” 

Jack finished zipping up his wetsuit, getting on the rest of the gear and diving in. 

The fox exhaled, leaning against the railing. Timoti walked out from the cockpit, leaning next to her and lighting a cigarette. He passed her the packet, offering her one.

“Eh… Last time I smoked was when I was like… 16, 17? But… Yeah, g’on then.” She took one out and lit it. The harsh, but steadily familiar taste of the tobacco stuck on her tongue as she took a drag. 

Meanwhile, on Jack’s end, he was having a blast. The fish, the corals, the anemone all filling up the stunning landscape of the reef. Everywhere he looked there was life, whether it was swimming through the streams or swaying from side to side on the seabed. He was no stranger to this kind of image, being a common backdrop of any aquatic nature program, but seeing it up close was something else. 

...And then he got too close, bumping his head against a rock covered by coral. He groaned, rubbing his head. He looked at the rock again, raising an eyebrow. The hare wouldn’t really classify himself as an expert on rock-to-head collisions, but that bump hurt quite a bit. Whatever that was, it was manifestly not a rock. He tapped it with his paw, hearing a metallic clanking in response. 

Back on the boat, Skye exhaled, breathing out some smoke.

Timoti turned slightly, “So… How come you don’t have a codename?”  
“What?” The vixen asked, brows furled. 

“Well, for example Jack’s is Savage and…”  
“Mine’s Skye?”

He frowned slightly, “But that’s just your name isn’t it?”

“No. Skye’s my codename.” 

He took the cigarette out of his mouth, pausing for a second, “Wait… So what’s your real name?” 

Skye scoffed, putting hers back in her mouth and taking a drag, “Jog on, mate”

“What?” The dog asked, his perplexity apparent in his tone. 

“I don’t tell people my name. That shit’s personal, innit?” 

He shrugged, “Alright… I mean it’s not like I’d tell anyone, it’s part of my job to keep secrets.”

Skye twiddled her cigarette between her fingers, “How do you even become an informant when you live in like the arsehole of nowhere? No offense.”

“None taken…” Timoti replied blankly, “Well, for your information… The Pacific has been pretty important ever since the Cold War. What you’ve gotta remember is we’re in between America and Asia. Even today, you’ve got the North Koreans. At the end of the day, we’re only 2,000 or so miles away from Hawaii - if they drop a nuke, we’re in the splash zone. So it’s in our best interests.” 

“But that’s more to do with America then.” 

“Yeah, but… Once you’re in with one of them you very quickly start meeting the others.” 

Jack withdrew his paw, examining the rock closer. It seemed to be made of some flexible alloy, coated in paint to make it look natural. The coral wrapped around it moved slightly, lifting off the rock and leaving three circular marks on the surface. His eyes narrowed. He looked at the marks and then up, seeing the bright yellow eye of a large, crimson red squid. 

Skye stubbed out her cigarette, leaning back against the railing. For some reason, under the water, there was something quickly splashing closer towards them. The scuba-clad hare jumped onto the deck, breathing heavily. 

“You alright?” The fox asked.

He took a bit to catch his breath, before replying, “Yeah, there was… This squid and uh…” 

“Really, a squid? That’s what you were swimming away from?”

“It was pretty big.” Jack pointed out in rebuttal. 

Timoti chipped in, “Well, it probably was… Relatively anyway. Like with the size difference between us, an average sort of sized squid probably looks like the kraken to you.” 

“I seriously doubt it was just size difference…” 

The dog shrugged, “I don’t know, I’ve been angling since I was 17 and I never found a squid any bigger than this,” He said, outstretching his arms. 

Savage exhaled, “Well, in any case I think that’s enough scuba diving for today…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fag - Cigarette, stop giggling.  
> Jog on - Go away, used as dismissal or as a sign of annoyance.


	6. Salesmen Are Like Vampires

“Oh my days, it’s  _ actually  _ here now!” 

Jack groaned, having been asleep before his partner shouted that out, "What is?"

“The lightbulbs!” The vixen replied. 

He frowned for a second, “What…? Oh! Right, the lightbulbs. About time… It’s been…”

“At least a few weeks…” She said, putting her phone away. 

Jack got up out of bed, heading over to the doorway, looking around for a parcel, “...Where are they, then?” 

Skye sighed, “Well, they’re not here, they’re by the dock, aren’t they?”

“What? I thought it’d just be like a cardboard box of them.” 

The vixen's eyes narrowed, “...You was expecting a supply of lightbulbs what were supposed to be used in every house in the area to be in one cardboard box?” While she asked, she cleared through her suitcase.

“How did you manage to get more chavvy in just one sentence?” 

“Oi, fuck off," The agent bluntly replied, slipping into a black trouser suit, "Alright, you coming or not? Gonna need your suit, by the way. We’re gonna start going door-to-door ASAP.” 

Jack nodded, going over and getting changed into his. 

The duo made their way to the docks. This was the part of the islands that was brushed off to the side a little. Which was somewhat understandable, mostly consisting of large freighters and cargo containers. You definitely wouldn’t see that in a travel booklet. Skye was on her phone, seeming following directions to their crate. Eventually she spotted it, ‘Shenzhou Shipping Co.’ written across a dark blue and yellow container. 

She rubbed her paws together, heaving the doors open. There were two rows of about 25 reasonably sized wooden crates, each of them were about the size of their heads. 

“What exactly was the plan for storing these crates?” The hare questioned, examining his partner’s defeated expression. 

“Timbo. He’s got that boat, yeah?” 

Jack shrugged, getting his phone out, “I’ll ring him then…” 

Skye paced up and down the container.

Timoti picked up, “Jack? What is it? What do you want?” 

“Hey, man! So, you don’t suppose we could maybe use your boat for something?” 

“I’m on the clock at the moment.” The dog replied with a sigh.

Jack leaned against the wall of the container, “C’mon, you’re the chief constable. You can make up an excuse.”

He couldn’t see it, but he could practically feel the canine on the other side rubbing his forehead, “Alright, fine… Where are you?”

“Uh… By the Western Docks. Yard B.” 

A half hour or so later, the boat arrived. Timoti stepped off dressed in his police uniform with a peaked cap, light blue shirt and a sort of dark blue skirt that matched with the hat. 

Skye’s brows furled, “ The fuck is that?”

The  kurī  looked at her for a second, “...What?”

“Is that a dress?”

He looked down, “No, it’s not a dress. It’s a lavalava, it’s just part of the uniform.”

“Lavalava…?” She asked.

“Yes, it’s called a lavalava.” The constable replied simply.

“Mr Lavalava…”

Confused again, Timtoi asked, “What?”

“She call me Mr Boombastic, say me fantastic touch me on the back she says I’m Mr Ro-ro-”

“Skye.” Jack interjected, cutting her off.

The vixen chuckled, “Sorry.” 

Timoti exhaled, “So what do you need it for, exactly?”

“Just all these crates,” Jack replied, gesturing to the container.

“Feel free to help with the lifting,” Skye quipped. 

He groaned, going over to help them lug the crates onto his boat. Among the crates was a slightly wider one, Jack eyed it over curiously, spotting a label. ‘Some other bollocks you could do with. - Paco’.

“Huh… Hey, Skye?” 

“What is it, Billy Elliot?” She asked, looking over.

“Looks like Paco left a care package for us too.” He said, looking around for something to open it. 

Skye squatted down, taking out a box cutter.

Jack paused, “The fact you just have that on you is kind of concerning.” 

She shrugged, “I’m from London, I could have had worse.” 

The fox slid the lid of the crate off, inside were various cardboard boxes and plastic wallets. She took a box, taking the tape off and taking out a pair of goggles and rebreather.

“That would’ve been useful the other day.” Jack pointed out.

She fidgeted with the goggles, switching the lamps on.

“Even more so…” 

“Okay, is that all then?” Timoti asked. 

Skye nodded, “Yep, just need to take this round to the inn.”

Soon enough, the pair of agents were standing outside a neatly decorated hut emblazoned with floral motifs, waiting for the homeowner to answer the door. Jack fidgeted, a little uncomfortable in his suit. 

“You remembered what I said, yeah?” Skye asked him. 

His ear twitched, “Which bit?

“With the voice.” 

“Oh, right. Yep.” 

An elderly  kurī lady with thick glasses opened the door, “Oh, hello.” 

“Good morning madam, my name is Amy Langford,” Skye shook her paw, somehow managing to completely transform both her composure and accent into that of a posh salesman, “We’re from Kaplan Lighting, based in England, and were wondering whether you would like to sign to replace all of your lightbulbs for what I can guarantee is a better model and at a very agreeable price.”

She nodded, “Oh, I’m not sure… How much?” 

“Only six quid per bulb,” Jack explained in an awfully imitated Cockney accent.

Skye frowned at him, before turning back to the old lady, “Yes. How many lights do you have in your house?” 

“One in each room, so I have 5.” 

“£30, that’s no issue is it?” 

The dog mulled it over, “Well, I don’t know… Mine work fine.”

“Well, then let’s ‘ave a look then,” Jack added, maintaining the poorly done accent.

She let them inside, Skye testing the lights and making various ‘hmms’ and ‘ahs’.

“See. Working perfectly.” The kurī told her contentedly. 

The fox shook her head, “Well, I’m not so sure, miss. You see from the looks of it, these lightbulbs look like they’ll only last for another 5 months. Our lightbulbs would last you another 6 years, and on top of that will be twice as bright.” She smiled, passing her the clipboard. 

The elderly woman signed it and passed it back.

“Wonderful. Thank you, madam. My fitter, Jack, will get these set up for you.”

The hare glared at Skye, never having agreed to that. 

After a few minutes, the hare came back out, “Well, aside from you making me do all the physical work… That went quite well.”

Skye leaned against the doorpost, absentmindedly answering while on her phone, “Well, I did all the selling so it’s fitting for you to do the rest of it.”

“How’d you do that anyway? We have no idea how long those will last for.”

“So? They don’t know that. Spying isn’t just about parkour and dodging bullets, you have to lie effectively too. Believe in your lie, and they will too. Your con is only as convincing as your confidence.”

“Good job with the posh voice too, by the way.” Jack remarked.

She exhaled, scrolling, “Wish I could say the same for you…”

“I wasn’t that bad!” He retaliated, foot thumping.

“What were you even trying to do?”

“Like… London.” 

She frowned, “What, the same part of London that Dick Van Dyke is from? I can’t believe I’m saying this, but stick to your Geordie.” 

He groaned, throwing his head back, “This is gonna be a long day…” 

A couple of hours later, they made their way out to a lavish looking estate.The estate was a white marble bauhaus mansion that looked more like it belonged to some tech entrepreneur in Silicon Valley than on a small island in the middle of the Pacific. Skye rang the doorbell, looking about.

“This is pretty fancy,” Jack pointed out. 

She nodded, “Yeah, it is… Must be the mayor or someone.” 

“How many more do we have to do, by the way?” 

“I think just three more after this one and then we have to convince the city council to change the streetlamps to our product.” 

The hare scoffed, “Well, that’s gonna be fun.” 

The door of the mansion opened, a familiar doctor looking at them, “Oh, the agents. I was wondering where you two had been these past few weeks.” 

Jack nodded at him, “Dr. Karaka, nice to see you again.” 

He frowned, “What is it? You look like you’re about to sell me something.” 

Skye chuckled awkwardly, “Funny story… We’re selling lightbulbs, would you like some replacements?” 

“No.” 

She paused, not exactly sure what to do, “Well, if you’re worried about the price - we sell them very cheap.” 

The doctor looked at her blankly, gesturing to the large house he’s living in. 

“Ah… Right, fair point… Well, why not then?” 

“I don’t buy anything from door-to-door salesmen, let alone ones that I know are government spies. I’m sure you understand.” He shut the door on them, leaving the two of them standing in bewilderment. 

Jack looked up at Skye, “You’re right, your con  _ is  _ only as convincing as your confidence.”

“Fuck off, Geordie Shore.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is probably the last glossary I'm gonna do. 
> 
> Lavalava - Polynesian skirt-like garment worn as casual and formal unisex clothing.


	7. In The Deep End

Now that the cameras were in place - all they needed to do was wait for the next islander to go primal and follow the feed. 

“Tapu Pekama,” Skye said, putting her phone down.

Jack nodded, looking through a map on the laptop, “Okay… Where do they live?” 

“She lives on 21 Mihimoa Road.”

The hare clicked about the screen, having a 360° display of four separate rooms up. He moved the cursor and wound the clips back to the night before Pekama was found primal. For the most part, everything seemed normal. She was watching TV, going upstairs to do the laundry. But then at about half past eleven, two mammals clothed in black broke in. At first, Jack only spotted them going through a corridor, but was able to wind back and find them wedging open the bathroom window. They were both canines of some sort, fairly well-built but still small enough to be agile. On their arms they both had a patch - a white emblem with blue waves on the top and bottom with spears crossing over them. 

For a while they stayed in the shadows, Pekama still unaware of the intruders inside her home. They waited, and waited and when the time was right they struck. One grabbed her and kept her still, while the other wrenched her mouth open. Jack had to switch to a different angle for him to spot it - a white pill was forced inside, making her drop. They caught her before she fell, making their way out of the house. 

“Okay, so… Where did they go?” Skye asked, looking it over.

Jack switched to the cameras they had set up in the street lamps, following them as best he could. This was a little more difficult than in the house, as the abductors moved twice as discreetly, not wanting anyone to follow them. Suffice to say, you can only be so out-of-view with cameras in nearly every corner. They took off in a boat, leaving through the northern port. 

“Shame we didn’t get one in the lighthouse, eh?” Jack pointed out.

Skye threw herself back onto the bed, “Ugh… Fuck’s sake… Well they could’ve gone anywhere there, then.” 

Jack stared at the screen, “That’s the same bit Timoti took us out on the other day.” 

“Yeah, that leads out into the reef. What’s your point?” Skye asked, looking up at him. 

“I think I know where they might have gone... “ 

They met up again with Timoti, back on his cabin cruiser. Jack lugged over Paco’s care package he left with the lightbulb shipment, resting it by the entrance to the cockpit. The policehound lit up his cigarette, leaning against the boat’s railings. 

Jack cleared his throat, explaining the situation, “Okay, so… That time I went scuba diving a couple weeks ago, I bumped into a rock.”

Skye chuckled, “Well done, dickhead.” 

“Yes, thank you. Thing is - it wasn’t a rock. From the sounds of it, it was made of some type of metal.” 

Timoti nodded, “So… Did you see what it was?” 

“Seeing as I was chased off by a monster squid, no I didn’t. And it’s my guess that said friendly cephalopod was supposed to be there, so that's why I brought Paco’s gadgets.” 

“Alright, seems fair. Let’s get those rebreathers then, those should be useful.” Skye said, opening the box and rummaging through. She got out the goggles and rebreathers, trying them on. Jack zipping up his wetsuit.

“Well, anything else then?” Timoti asked after the spy got changed. 

“Yeah, actually… There was this symbol that the kidnappers had on their suits, here let me find it…” He went through his phone, finding an image and showing it to him: the white circle with the waves and crossing spears.

“Oh, right… Yeah, you wouldn’t know it.” 

“You recognise it?” Jack asked him.

“Yeah, that’s the coat of arms of the Keekarangi Tribe. They were rivals to the Kowhai tribe, it’s a long story but… Essentially there was a blood feud, and they lost. Kowhaians were kind of bitter about it, so Keekarangi were treated like second class citizens for quite a while. Even today most can only get a job by joining the military or sometimes police, I know a few Keekarangi on my force for example, but then after the military they usually just become hired guns. Go out to Samoa, Tonga, etcetera. But they’re professionals, I’d be careful with them.” 

“Peak... Organised _and_ they’ve got a grudge. Those are always the fun ones.” Skye noted, having changed into the orange scuba suit.

Timoti looked at her, “I thought that was tatty old bollocks?”

“Yeah, well, Paco didn’t pack scuba suits so I’m gonna have to put up with it.” 

The kurī huffed, looking away. 

Jack slipped on a waterproof satchel bag and started gearing up, “Oh yeah, Timoti? Do you have some harpoons we could borrow? I’m a good boxer but usually I’m up against two paws and not eight tentacles.” 

“They _have_ two tentacles,” Skye pointed out. 

“What?” 

“Squids have two tentacles, not eight. They have eight legs, but not eight tentacles.” 

The hare scoffed, “So, you have a go at me whenever I reference biology but then you-” 

Timoti forcefully put the harpoons in both their paws, trying to get them to stop arguing, “Okay, is that everything now?” 

They nodded, Jack stepping forward to jump in the water. He swam through, turning the lamps on to get a better look. Skye followed him in, doing the same. They swam through the reef, Skye following Jack’s direction until they reached it. A large rock with a bit of coral over it. She turned and looked at her partner, seemingly unimpressed. He gestured towards it again, pointing out the ‘coral’ had just moved. Skye swam back as the humongous squid unlatched from the rock, the arms and tentacles spread out imposingly. She flinched back slightly. It rose up and shot a cloud of ink at them. Jack spun away, trying to wipe it off his goggles as quickly as possible. Skye loaded up the harpoon and fired it, the squid simply batting it away with a tentacle. 

Jack swam around it, trying to get in one of the blindspots in between its eyes. The squid's eye danced around. Its tiny black pupil darted around hopelessly. Skye rallied with Jack at the squid's trunk. The cephalopod swam around in circles, unable to see where they were. With no real confidence, Skye shot again. The harpoon zipped through the water, rippling in the split second it took to stab through the squid's head and pierce its heart. She panted, watching the squid fall down into the deeps of the ocean and then looking up at Jack. He nodded, swimming over to the rock.

The spy looked around, trying to look for some kind of door. Skye tapped the rock with her harpoon to get his attention, gesturing towards a hatch. He swam over, lifting it open and climbing into some type of capsule. After Skye got in, he closed the hatch and all the water drained out through a grill at the bottom.

Jack turned to her, “I told you it wasn’t just size difference.”

“Oh, piss off.” 

They got up, Skye opening a door to lead them out of the airlock. The two stepped out into a dark metal corridor. Cautiously, they made their way through. Jack peaked through the window of one door, a dog in a lab coat was pouring powder into some pills. Strolling further down the corridor, Skye noticed one door that gaped open slightly. She nudged it with her paw, creeping inside. It was a planning room of some description, a desk with a computer and a wall plastered with photos of what looked like every citizen of New Mercia. Curiously, about a quarter of the pictures were marked with a Keekarangi symbol in the corner. Jack reached into his bag, taking out a camera.

She raised an eyebrow, “How much crap have you even got in that bag?” 

“Cameras, dictaphone, sting gel, a couple of snacks…” He said absentmindedly, stepping back and snapping the photo, “Okay, let’s get going.” 

They moved on for a bit, reaching a bridge overlooking an armory. A couple of the Keekarangi goons sat around by the gun lockers, one or two of them smoking and loitering as one more animated of the bunch was ranting about something or other. 

The fox and hare hid behind a blindspot. Jack reached through his satchel and got out a dictaphone, recording the merc’s ramblings. It was in their own language, so it wasn’t much use to them at that point, but if they got Timoti to listen then it could prove quite useful. Skye’s tail swished, hitting Jack’s paw. He flinched back, pressing stop on accident. He paused, staring down at the dictaphone as it started playing the recording. The shouty Keekarangi shooter stopped mid-rant, pausing as his ears twitched about like some sort of radar. The others sniffed around then sprung into action, rushing up the stairs to the bridge.

Skye groaned, “Wanker.” 

“It was only because of your tail!” Jack shouted back at her. 

A red beacon lit up as an alarm sounded out, echoing throughout the base. The fox sighed, sprinting back to the airlock and pressing her rebreather back on her muzzle. Jack ran along with her, opening the hatch to the door and swimming out. In a panic, they shot through the water, looking for Timoti’s boat. Jack spotted it, pointing it out to Skye before climbing on. He slumped over, his heart racing and his breath shaky.

“Are you two alright?” Timoti asked, looking them up and down. 

Jack sat and panted for a while, still mustering back his breath, “We need to get away. _Fast._ ” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peak - Expression used to convey that something, especially a situation, is bad


	8. Sting Operation

Timoti wasted no time at all, turning the key and shooting the boat out to sea. As the boat skimmed forward, Jack’s ear twitched. He felt something race through the air and swiftly jumped out the way, narrowly dodging a bullet. He looked into the water, seeing at least five of the Keekarangi on jet skis coming after them.

“Speed up!” Jack yelled, firing a harpoon in their direction.

“I’m going as fast as I can!” Timoti shouted back.

The number of mercs chasing them doubled, tripled and quadrupled until the three of them had thirty odd goons gunning behind. Skye leaned on the railing, trying to take them out with her harpoon. A few of them were knocked back, but not nearly enough. Bullets grazed the side of the boat, scratching through the metal. Timoti’s conning got more hasty, swerving the boat from side to side like a drunk driver.

Jack shook his head, “We’ve gotta lose them…” 

“How do we do that?” The dog asked, focused on the wheel.

The hare sat up slightly, looking outwards and exhaling. He paused, then ran out onto the bow of the ship, did a somersault and dived in the water, pulling his rebreather back on his muzzle as he did. 

“Is he fucking mental?” Skye exclaimed. 

Timoti grimaced, looking over his shoulder at the hounds, “I don’t know, it might be your best bet…”

“You what?” 

“Look, just dive in the water and get somewhere safe. I’ll divert them somewhere away from you,” He explained.

She grimaced, hesitantly putting her rebreather back on and diving headfirst into the water. Engulfed in the deep blue void, the fox frantically looked around for any sign of her fellow agent. She switched on the goggles’ lamps, looking around. The silence was growing unsettling, suffocating even. The vixen managed to make out some distant silhouette in the distance and with no other option, swam towards it. As she swam in closer, she could begin to make out more features.... Canine features. The figure whipped around, pointing a machine gun at her in one paw and clutching a radio in the other.

‘So much for diversion…’ Skye thought to herself, as she swam away as fast she could. Looking back over her shoulder on occasion, she could see the dog was booking it too. The spy swam on, just trying to get as far away as possible. Suddenly something gripped her arm. She whipped round, harpoon aimed steadily. Aimed at a hare, who was now holding both arms up in surrender. 

Skye let out a sigh of relief, for once she was pleased to see him. She gestured for him to follow her, but before he could, a bullet shot past him. They checked behind them, the dog having gotten the rest of the Keekarangi hitmen to follow him. Skye shot off a harpoon, skewering two of the hitmen together like a shishkebab and swimming away. Jack swam alongside her, shooting one through the neck. A stream of bullets clipped past, tearing a hole through the side of Skye’s suit. The fox growled and shot a harpoon ripping through the culprit’s jaw.

The amount of goons after them was dropping, but so was their oxygen supply. Jack took a turn to throw them off their trail, coming up to a jellyfish bloom. Skye frowned at him, coming above water and pulling her rebreather off, “...What are you doing?” 

He came up and pulled his off as well, “Well they’re not gonna be mad enough to follow us here, like, so we might as well cut through here and get on the island over there.” 

She looked at him as if he’d just asked her to join him in a suicide pact,“I’m sorry, what about the jellyfish?”

“Look, we have suits covering our fur. As long as they don’t get our face, we’ll be fine. We’ve just gotta be agile.” 

Behind them, the mercenaries were steadily catching up. Skye shook her head and reluctantly put her rebreather back on, diving through the bloom. The spies dodged stingers left and right, each call closer than the last. Some of the hitmen were mad enough to charge after them, but were quickly overwhelmed by the hydrozoan swarms and left to their seabed graves. The jellyfish propelled themselves around in circles, like technicolour kites. Skye bounded past them, narrowly squeezing between them. Jack maneuvered his way through, viewing it a bit like a luminescent gymnastics course. 

The two of them braved their way through the electric hive, getting closer and closer. Jack saw an opening and swam straight through it, washing up on the beach and coughing. He shook the water off, stretching and pacing up and down. Skye whined, clutching her waist and grimacing. Jack walked over, looking her up and down, “...Are you alright?” 

“I got stung, you wanker, of course I’m not alright!” She snapped back, taking a paw off her waist to show the wound.

“Did you see what kind it was?” He asked, gingerly.

She frowned, “What kind?” 

“Of jellyfish, there’s a few different species around here. Some would be worse to get stung by than others, after all…” 

“Wh- I wasn’t fucking looking, was I? I just know it stung me. Which, by the way, goes against what you said about these scuba suits being good enough protection. So thanks for that, you useless fucking twat! Just get that sting gel you keep banging on about.”

The lagomorph sighed, reaching for his bag but stopping, “You know what? No. Fuck you. Why should I help you? I’ve tried everything to cooperate with you and help you on this mission and in return you’ve been a massive prick the whole time. I mean, seriously, what is your problem?” 

She huffed, “My problem is that some little long-eared, foot-thumping knobend from the Geordie arsehole of nowhere got a job that I worked years to get, from a bit of luck. Right time, right place. Just some bellend who could box a little, was sort of agile and knew some martial arts. Yep, there you go. Free job.”

Jack scoffed, folding his arms, “Well at least when I got the job, it was after I took down a mammal trafficking syndicate and not by being some overly-ambitious pencil-pusher who kissed her way up until she finally got a job that wasn’t filing reports.”

Skye stopped in her tracks., looking at him. 

“Yeah, I know about that. Agent Delta told me how you were some whiny little secretary who opened the doors for the right people and said  _ please  _ and  _ thank you _ at the right time and lo and behold, you managed to get a job in HARES where you continued to be a desk jockey until  _ eventually  _ you managed to convince the higher-ups you were capable of doing some physical work. I can see past your amazing-action-hero-I’m-so-much-better-than-you façade, because I know that deep down, really, you’re just insecure tha-”

“Shut up! Just shut up! Stop fucking talking!” The fox yelled back in a raspy voice. 

Jack stopped and looked at her, spotting the tears dripping down and dampening her fur.

Skye tried to catch her breath before speaking again, “...I got a job in government in 2005, two weeks after 7/7 happened. What do you think it was like trying to work my way up, not only being a fox, not only being a woman… But having a name like 'Nessa Janjua-Khan' after a major Islamic terrorist attack?! What do you think that was fucking like?!” She spat out, not even caring that she’d told him her name. 

Jack swallowed, “Skye, I-”

She cut him off, sobbing, “Fuck off! If you’re not gonna help, just… Fuck off!”

He exhaled, turning his back and walking off into the jungle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 7/7 - A series of terrorist attacks that took place on the 7th July 2005. Four Islamic terrorists separately detonated three homemade bombs in quick succession aboard London Underground trains across the city and, later, a fourth on a double-decker bus in Tavistock Square.


	9. Venenum Circes

Jack set off through the jungle. Using his harpoon, he began to hack off branches from the trees to start making a small camp for himself. Nothing too advanced, just a small hut he could stay in, maybe a fire. Just a few tricks he picked up from when he used to hang out with his mates in the forest. The spy sighed, hopelessly gathering logs and sticks. He was annoyed at himself, if nothing else for his own assured confidence. Of course, he was still a little mad at her but nowhere near as much as he was at his own big mouth. 

‘Just had to make her cry…’ He thought to himself. 

Slaving along, the hare walked to and fro. It was silent, aside from the occasional bird chirp, and in a way that added to the monotony of it. He chopped his way through the jungle, moving vines and leaves out of the way as he did. But then the silence broke. 

A shrill yell snapped the air. 

Jack whipped around, his nose twitching, bounding towards him was Skye. Her back was arched, her mouth was foaming and her claws unsheathed. She leapt at him, Jack dodging and swerving to the right as he started to bolt through the jungle. The fox chased him through the thickets and foliage, snapping at him whenever she got near. The hare ran, jumping in a zig-zag pattern to throw her off. 

He came to the bank of a small lake, looking for a way to get across. Spotting a log floating downstream, he vaulted over it to the other side. Ducking and dodging past swinging branches and vines, Jack made haste through the jungle. Behind him, Skye kept after the hare on all fours. Swift and agile, she cut her way through the green. Jack’s heart pounded, his breath getting shorter and shorter.

Her claws scraping through the dirt, the fox kept her pursuit. As nimble as he was, Jack wasn’t always the most careful. He caught his leg over a vine and tripped, hitting the ground. Clutching his knee, he backed up against a log. His heart hammered against his chest, as his partner’s muzzle emerged from the vines. She glared at him with blood-shot eyes, baring her teeth and growling. Slowly, the vulpine's body coiled. As she pounced forward, Jack’s feet sprung into action. Two heavy kicks struck her jaw, knocking her back into a nearby tree with a loud thud.

Jack's breathing was erratic, he walked over to her. She was slumped against the tree, unconscious.

When Skye woke up, she was on her side facing the jungle. A small tent of sorts made of twigs and branches was rested up against a tree. Jack was seated outside, eating some crisps. As she tried to get up, she was yanked back down to the ground.

“Ow! The fuck…?” Skye groaned.

Jack turned to her, “Oh, you’re up,” He put the crisp packet down, walking over to her, “Sorry, I had to tie you up…” He untied some vine he had holding her down. 

She groaned, sitting up and rubbing her head. She squinted her eyes over at the crisp packet, “What are they?” 

He looked over to them, “Oh, I had some Walker’s in my bag.” 

“Can I have some?”

Jack nodded, unzipping the bag and tossing her a packet of Salt & Vinegar. Skye opened it, starting to eat. The hare got back to his snack, leaning back.

She frowned, looking to him, “Did I…?” 

“Yep,” He answered, throwing a crisp in his mouth.

“How?” 

“Well, I think I know what jellyfish stung you,” He replied, putting the packet back down, “The Pacific Witch Jellyfish is a species indigenous to this area. Their sting releases a series of neurotoxins which kill fish, however...” 

“...When larger mammals are stung it increases aggression?” She asked. 

Jack nodded.

“So like the nighthowlers?” 

“Right.” 

“Quick question - why are you only mentioning this now? Like even just when we showed up, do you not think it would’ve been worth mentioning that there’s a rare species of jellyfish with a really weird quirk?” 

Jack frowned, looking at her blankly. He shook his head, deciding now wasn’t the time to remind her of every time he tried to mention it. 

“Sorry.” 

“Nah, it’s fine.” 

“No,” She replied earnestly, “I mean earlier…” 

“Oh, right.” 

She exhaled.

“If it’s any consolation, I sort of know the feeling. I mean I’m not Asian obviously so I don’t _exactly_ know the… But back at school I was good at sort of history, geography and a bit of science, like, but I never did that well in Maths or English really… Was a bit annoying to see other kids who seemed to just fly through it.” 

Skye shrugged, “No it’s… It isn’t your fault you got lucky, I was just being an arsehole. I’ll try to stop like the geek jokes and that.” 

“Oh, that stuff never really got to me.” 

“What?” She asked, perplexed.

“Well I mean… Given what Delta said I imagined you were probably a bit of a tryhard at school, so you would’ve been just as sad as I was on one point.” Jack explained.

“Oi!” She chuckled slightly.

He laughed too, "Are you really telling me you weren't sad? Like back in secondary, I mean." 

“No I never! I was… I was a bit of a slag, really.” 

Jack scoffed, “What to the teachers?” 

“Oi piss off, when’d you grow a pair?” She asked, smirking slightly in disbelief.

"Just cos I like geography and that doesn't mean I'm completely sad. I play rugby, y'know?"

Skye raised an eyebrow, "You play rugby?" 

"Well, rugby league,” He added.

She rolled her eyes jokingly, "Northerners…"

Jack exhaled, sitting back.

“Anyway, so… Is there anything else on the jellyfish I should know?”

“Well, if it’s treated properly, the primal states stop pretty quickly.”

She sat up, “And how do you treat it…? The sting gel?” 

Jack nodded, getting it out of the bag and squirting some on his paw, “Alright where is it again?” 

Skye gestured to the tear in the scuba suit, the fur in that area slightly ruffled.

He sighed, “I can’t believe I’m saying this but… I can’t really do much just from that tear, I’m gonna need you to take your top off.” 

“Oi, you what?” 

“You have a bra on, don’t you?” 

“Well… Yeah,” She replied hesitantly. 

“I just need to put the gel on,” He reassured her.

Skye groaned, unzipping the scuba suit and rolling it down to her waist. 

Gathering up the gel in his palm, he started to rub around the wound. The vixen fidgeted slightly, wincing and wriggling.

Jack sighed, “Stop moving, I need you to be still.”

“Well, it fuckin’ hurts when you touch it!” She exclaimed in retaliation.

“C’mon, you impaled two guys with a harpoon like two hours ago. It’s just a sting.” 

“Sorry, do you wanna go in the water and find out what it feels like?” 

He scoffed, “Well, if you keep fidgeting I’ll probably end up getting one of the spikes in my paw anyway…”

She sat up suddenly, “Wait, it put spikes in me?” 

Jack sighed, “Just… Calm down, okay? Lie back.”

Skye shook her head, reluctantly doing so. Jack went back to rubbing the gel onto her waist, starting to take out some of the spikes. She still winced on occasion, and occasionally whined but for the most part went through with it. 

“Alright, I’ve gotta soak it with some warm water. I’ll be right back,” He said, picking up an empty bottle and walking down the beach. As he filled it up with water, he sighed, looking out to sea. With no boat and swimming through the jellyfish bloom again not really being an option, the two of them were effectively stranded on the island. Now probably wasn’t the best time to tell Skye this, but he’d have to at some point. They only had about four packets of crisps left, so unless they start making jellyfish trifle, they’re out of food in about a day. 

“Oi! Are you done yet?” Skye yelled from the camp.

“Yeah, just finished!” Jack shouted back, putting a lid on the bottle. 

The hare made his way back over to her, pouring the water on her side. She grit her teeth, paws moving to clutch her waist. Jack stopped her, pulling them away, “Leave it, you’re supposed to let it settle.” 

She sighed again, looking at him.

He gave an apologetic look back.

“Could you let go of my paws, by the way?” She asked.

Jack coughed awkwardly, letting go, “Yep, sorry.” 

She sat back, letting the water soak the sting, “Right, so… If one jellyfish sting only makes you go primal once, that means this isn’t just the sting we’re dealing with.” 

Jack nodded, “I imagine they probably took several samples of the neurotoxins and managed to concentrate them somehow…” 

“Well, that does narrow it down a little. I doubt there’s too many people on the island who could do that. Maybe look out for marine biologists or people like that.” 

“I think I might know who did it…” He said, getting the camera out of the bag, “You remember the board in the underwater base?” 

“Yeah, we didn’t get a chance to properly look at that did we?” 

He got the picture out, zooming in and panning around the board. Photos of several different kurī dogs, some of which marked with a Keekarangi symbol in the corner of the photo.

“I still don’t get it… Does the symbol mean they’re targets or something?” 

“Well,” Jack started, “While you were out, I had a closer look at it… I was trying to see if I could find any kind of pattern between the dogs marked, and while I didn’t find that…” He zoomed in on one of the photos, the Mercian in the picture being the same one they found at the stone monument.

“Hey, it’s fuckin… What’s-his-name.”

“Maro,” Jack said.

“Yeah, him.” 

“Not only him, by the way,” He said, panning through the image until he came to Timoti’s picture.

She looked over at it, “Shit, Timbo.” 

“So, considering Maro was targeted and Timoti we know isn’t Keekarangi… What if they’re not just doing this for the money? What if the symbol marks which ones are Keekarangi, so they know who not to go after.” 

Skye thought for a bit, “Shit, yeah…”

“And then… I was kind of confused earlier, because… I thought, surely if this was mostly jellyfish neurotoxins, the doctors would be aware of that and would know how to treat it.” 

She nodded, “Right.” 

“But what if the reason they aren’t treating it, is because they’re being told not to?” He suggested.

The vixen raised an eyebrow, “...What are you getting at here?” 

Jack zoomed in on one of the photos, this one of Doctor Karaka. Emblazoned across the corner of his picture, was the spear-crossed Keekarangi symbol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Secondary School - As opposed to having middle school and high school separately, in the UK we have primary school from when you're 4-11 and then secondary from 11-16 (possibly up to 18 if you stay in Sixth Form)  
> Slag - Someone who sleeps around  
> Rugby League - One of the two codes of rugby football, played more in Northern England as opposed to Rugby Union which is played more in the South.


	10. Case Closed

“Well, what are we still doing here then? Let’s go find the prick,” Skye exclaimed.

Jack sighed, “Slight, uh… Issue with that; we don’t have a boat.” 

“We can just make one, can’t we?” 

“What am I supposed to make a boat  _ from _ ?!” Jack asked, while sat under a tent made up of logs and branches.

The two of them took the tent down and began to make a raft, Jack laying the logs out in a square and Skye going out to collect some vines to bind it. After gathering the vines, she snapped two branches off a tree to work as oars. Jack roped the vines around the logs until the shape was secure. Skye grabbed one end of the raft, Jack grabbing the other as they launched it onto the water. He zipped the bag up and climbed onto the boat.

Floating over the jellyfish bloom, the raft led them out to sea. They rowed it onward hopelessly, barely able to catch even a glimpse of the harbour. Jack and Skye heaved the oars along. The branches slashed through the water, moving them along ever so slightly. The oppressive sun wore them down, pushing them back. Despite it, they managed to pull through. Nearing the harbour, they began to make out clearer shapes. Some fishing boats out on the water, some anchored, a lighthouse towering over them all. 

_ Crack!  _ They halted, looking down to see one of the branches had snapped. Like a row of dominoes, the whole raft began to fall apart, plunging the two into the water. Jack tried to hold onto one of the planks, quickly losing his grip. Skye kicked and struggled to keep herself afloat, panting. The hare pulled his scuba mask on, his partner doing the same. As their pulses steadied and their shock faltered, they began to swim forwards. It was unlikely both of them could make it to shore just by swimming, given how far they were, but if they were able to swim at least to a fishing boat they might have a chance. 

Jack kept on swimming. He wouldn’t give up, no matter how strenuous it was. His arms slowly got heavier, and heavier. His legs felt like concrete galoshes. Like a magnet pushed to the wrong pole, he just couldn’t move forwards. As the water submerged him, he glanced at his oxygen monitor. 0.4% was all he had left. The hare sank to the depths, silently resigned. An arm wrapped around him, pulling him up. Skye brought his head above water and huddled him to her body, swimming on. Scanning around the area, she managed to spot a lone fishing boat nearby. The vixen hollered out to the fisherhounds. She swam closer to the boat, the kurī dogs helping the two up. 

“You okay?” Skye asked, looking down at Jack.

He caught his breath, sitting up, “Yeah, yeah… Just got a little out of my depth, so to speak.” 

She frowned at him. 

The two sailors talked in Kowhaian to each other.

Jack looked over to them, “Is it alright if you take us back to land?” 

One of the two shrugged and answered, “We weren’t really getting that many today anyway…” 

After a boat journey and a change of clothes later, the agents made their way to the police station in search of Timoti. They ran through the doors and up to the front desk. 

“Hey, has the Chief Constable come in within the last four hours or so?” Skye asked. 

The receptionist shook his head, “No, he hasn’t come in since this morning.” 

“Alright, thanks…” She sighed, walking out and looking to Jack, “Do you think he might have been…" 

He sighed, "Seems like it…" 

Skye shook her head, "Well, where might they have taken him?" 

"Back to the dome?" Jack asked.

"No… No, not now they know we know about it." 

He shrugged, "The asylum?" 

"What?" 

"Well, y'know… They already lock people up, like, it's probably the least suspicious place to hold a prisoner other than the prison." 

She mulled it over, "Yeah, good point." 

"You reckon they'll be expecting us anyway?" Jack asked.

"Most likely," She replied.

"We better go get weapons, then." 

"Well I didn't think we was gonna go gardening," She said, passing him a pistol of some kind.

"Was this from Paco?" 

Skye nodded, "Zulu P18. I've got old Goldie of course." She whipped out a gold-plated handgun. 

He scoffed, "What have you gone and named it for? You great tool." 

"Oi, sod off." 

The asylum was just as cheery looking as the last time they were there. A bleak concrete colossus no one wanted to talk about. Jack reluctantly lifted the door open, letting it creak. The vast corridor lay empty and silent. how such an open space could make you feel so claustrophobic was a mystery even they couldn’t solve. Skye looked toward the row of cells and walked down it cautiously. 

“How do we find him, then?” She asked.

The hare shrugged, pacing backwards, “I don’t know I guess we just look in each one, it’s not like there’s gonna be a big trail of… Oh, who would just leave a cigarette butt on the floor?” He said, wincing as he held his foot up. 

“Wait…” Walking further down the corridor, Skye found another cigarette, picking it up. 

“Are we really gonna…” 

She shrugged, “Best bet. Probably one of those ‘Last smoke’ things they always let em do, cheeky fucker just went through the whole packet.” 

Jack exhaled, “Well, that does sound like him.” 

Following the trail of cigarettes, they made their way to Cell 0137. Inside it, was undeniably a roughed-up Timoti. 

“You look like shit,” Skye noted.

His ears raised in confusion and then shot up when he spotted them, “Oh thank God you’re here, I thought I was done for… I think the switch to open the cell is in on the left. Well, my left - your right.” 

Jack nodded, looking for it, “Nice job with the trail of cigarettes, by the way. Probably would’ve been searching for hours without it.” 

The dog raised an eyebrow, “The what?” 

The hare stopped, looking at him, “No, y’know, the cigarettes you left for us.” 

Timoti shook his head, “I didn’t leave any cigarettes…” 

Skye’s eyes widened, “So then, who…” 

“You decide,” Said a voice above them. 

They whipped round, looking up to see Dr Karaka staring down at them from the platform above them, a fag lit in his mouth. The vixen threw her head down, groaning. He stubbed the cigarette out, resting his arms on the railing. 

“It’s a bit of a shame really, I would’ve liked to find out more about the organisation you work for, but I can’t let you live with what you know. It’ll make distribution much more difficult…”

“Distribution?” Jack asked.

“I’m selling the serum. Some American, I don’t pretend to know her business, but she’s voiced interest in purchasing the formula.” 

He looked up at Karaka, confused, “...I thought this was about the Keekarangi?” 

“Oh, that? No, no. You really are lacking when it comes to perception, aren't you?” He asked with a mocking chuckle.

Jack frowned.

“I needed test subjects, getting back at the Kowhaians was just icing on the cake. I have a highly potent product which isn’t known enough to be illegal yet, I’m going to make as much money off this as quickly as I can and then wash my paws clean when the ban comes around.” 

“That American better not be who I think it is, you spineless twat,” Skye exclaimed. 

The doctor shrugged, “Money is money. Now, I really must be going, say hello to the test subjects for me,” He walked off, flicking a switch. 

All the cell doors shot up like cannons. Timoti ran out of his cell to the other two, as they backed up. Jack’s ears picked up a quiet, irritating ringing. He looked to Timoti and Skye, both of whom were clutching their ears and groaning. Assumedly, some type of dog whistle. The inmates did the same, starting to snap and growl. Foaming at the mouth, the primals started to close in on them. Skye reached for her gun, but Jack stopped her.

“They’re civilians, we can’t just shoot.” 

“Well, fuck, what do we do?” She asked panickingly. 

Jack looked to the platform above them, “We’ve gotta turn that siren off…” He leapt in between two of the dogs and wrangled himself through the crowd, running and jumping.

Skye shook her head in disbelief, “I mean he is just mental, isn’t he?” 

“Yep. Gonna follow him?” Timoti asked.

She nodded, getting on all fours and charging through. Timoti struggled against a primal, throwing them back. An inmate bared its teeth and growled, Skye kicking it in the snout and climbing onto the back of another one. She held their head forwards, the primal snapping at her and trying to turn its head round. Jack had managed to squeeze out already, sprinting up the stairs to the platform. Timoti was wrestling against the jaws of a dog who had pushed him against a wall. Skye followed after Jack, her knuckles bloodied by this point.

He looked her up and down, “You alright?” 

She breathed heavily, eventually catching her breath, “Yeah, yeah… Just lemme get the switch, you go find Karaka before he gets away…” 

Jack nodded, sprinting off. Skye searched around for the switch, her paw shaking intensely. Her eyes sprang to a switch with a bell symbol above it. As her paw reached for it, a bullet zipped past and hit her palm. She groaned, gripping it.

It was one of the Keekarangi mercs. He was significantly bigger than the others, and currently pointing a pistol to her head, “You killed a lot of good soldiers earlier.” 

“You looking for an apology?” She asked, groaning.

“No, just your head.” As his finger moved to the trigger, Skye’s ears perked up. She jumped up, twisting his arm round so the bullet shot aimlessly. She fell back to the ground, whipping out her gold-plated pistol and shooting at his head. The dog stumbled back, gripping his face. He pulled his paw away, his eye socket filled with blood. Growling, the Keekarangi charged at her, throwing her gun off the platform. He pinned her to the rail floor, clutching his paws around her neck. Struggling against him, she dug her claws into his shoulders, making him yell. Using her grip, she holstered him up and pushed him up against the railing. 

He threw a left hook, hitting her in the jaw. She grimaced, pulling her claws out and pushing her thumbs against his Adam's apple. He reached his paw out and grabbed her jaw, beginning to squeeze. Skye lifted her leg and kicked him in the gut, knocking him off the railing and down to the floor below. The primal inmates pulled their attention away from Timoti and rushed the merc, ripping into him. Skye’s heart thumped, as she caught her breath. She went back over to the switch, flicking it and stopping the ringing. The primals began to calm, a couple of them holding their heads in confusion. 

Meanwhile, Jack was going from corridor to corridor in hopeless search of Doctor Karaka. He opened door after door, most just having a desk with a computer on it. Then he came across one that was slightly different. Inside was a large tank with about three Pacific witch jellyfish swimming inside. There were various vials and tubes of a fluorescent white liquid, presumably the venom. Jack made his way over to the laptop, it was open on a page advertising the solution on a .onion domain. He looked over the bids, scrolling down. 

“If you were smart, you’d step away right about now.” 

Jack unholstered his gun, whipping round to Karaka, who also had his gun aimed forwards. The two rotated around each other in a circle. Karaka fired, Jack ducking as the bullet shot straight through his left ear. Jack shot back at Karaka, the dog dodging the bullets, making them pierce the wall. Biting his lip to hold himself from yelling, he rolled into cover behind the desk. 

Grabbing the computer as a shield, Jack started to shoot from cover. Karaka was hit in the shoulder, falling back and groaning. He cocked his gun and shot through the laptop screen, Jack only just dodging out of the way in time. He panted, glancing over at Karaka. He was standing in front of the jellyfish tank. The tank had a glass pane around the front, bolted in at the corners. 

“This is a shame, really. For a fox and a rabbit, you do manage to get through a lot.” 

Jack rolled out of cover, shooting four bullets. None of them hit Karaka. 

He chuckled, looking at where the bullets landed, “I think you missed just a bit there.” 

“You really are lacking when it comes to perception, aren't you?” Jack quipped.

“What?” The doctor turned round. 

The glass plane eased off, falling onto him and smashing, knocking him onto the ground. With it, the water and all three of the jellyfish flooded out on top of him. He struggled, one of the hydrozoans clasped around his muzzle. The doctor writhed and choked, struggling to clasp for air. He wrangled pathetically for a few seconds, then fell still. Jack got up and holstered his gun, walking out the room. 


	11. Epilogue

With the makeup of the toxins found and a new District Medical Officer in place, the primals began to be returned to normal. Of course, only a select few healthcare workers and government officials would ever know what really happened. Publicly, a virus had broken out and caused its hosts to go savage and Doctor Karaka had merely died in an unfortunate accident. No one in the public would know the British government had even stepped foot on the island. Unsung heroes they may be, it didn’t stop Jack and Skye from celebrating their victories. 

A party down by the beach was being held to congratulate the doctors who worked to cure the ‘disease’ and the DMO had given both spies bargains on the drinks. The night was lively, green fairy lights sprung out over the beach bar’s roof, a DJ up on a wooden stage playing a selection of tropical sounding tunes as tourists and locals alike drank and danced along. Jack sat at the bar, drinking a lager while Timoti talked to him. 

“...It must be pretty disheartening not getting any credit whatsoever, though.” 

Jack shrugged, taking a sip, “It’s not really about the glory though.” 

“True. Although I’m only an informant as a side-stint, so I still get a fair bit of credit with my main job,” Timoti replied.

“How are you feeling by the way? Skye said you got messed up pretty bad in the asylum.”

“It was mostly just cuts and external bleeding, worst I got was a scuffed shoulder,” The dog answered, taking a sip, “I’ve mostly recovered. How about you? That bandage coming off anytime soon?” He asked, gesturing to the bandage wrapped around the bullet wound in the spy’s ear.

Jack looked up at it, “Yeah… The doctors said I should give it a few weeks to patch up. After I take it off there’ll still be a hole through it, but the pain should be gone.” 

Timoti nodded, “Well, at least you’ve got one souvenir to take home from this.” 

The hare chuckled slightly, taking another swig from his beer.

“So when are you two headed back?” The policehound asked.

“Pretty early, around 8AM or so.” 

“Oh, right. Take it I probably won’t see you before then?” 

Jack shrugged, “Probably not.” 

Timoti nodded understandingly, “Well, best of luck to you then. Give my best wishes to Skye, too,” 

“Will do, mate.”

He patted his shoulder, getting up and walking off. Jack took a sip, looking around. Skye was on stage talking to the DJ about something or other. The vixen spotted him, wrapping up the conversation and heading over to the bar.

“Gave him some requests, he should start playing them after these next few,” She explained.

The hare nodded, “Ah, okay.” 

“What are you drinking?” Skye asked.

“Just a lager.” 

The vixen scoffed, “Lager? Come one, liven it up a bit.” 

Jack frowned, “What’s wrong with it?” 

“We’ve just solved a massive case, surely you wanna have summet more cheery than that.”

“I guess you’re right,” He gestured to the bartender to pour the drink down the sink, “What d’ya suggest I have, then?” 

She looked over the chalkboard above the bar, “Y’know what, I tried this one when we was still waiting for them lightbulbs that was fucking brutal. Merciless Mercian, bowl, two ices and a straw,” She said to the dog behind the bar. 

“...Bowl?” The hare queried.

She nodded, “Yep, oko bowl. It’s a sort of dried up, hollowed out watermelon basin.” 

The bartender put down the bowl in front of the fox, pouring a red liquid out of a jug and dropping in two cubes and a bamboo straw.

Jack narrowed his eyebrows, looking at the watermelon bowl in front of her, “Skye, that’s the size of my head…” 

“Yep,” She replied, sipping from her straw, “The drink itself is mostly fruity, just gin mixed with minted watermelon juice, but served in a three-litre bowl is a whole different story.” 

“So, you get a sugar rush and then get shitfaced?” 

“Pretty much,” Skye replied.

“Is that even legal?” Jack asked, perplexed.

“Well… If we were anywhere in the world but here, no. This is legally protected on the grounds of cultural heritage, the Mercians having used oko bowls for hundreds of years. Of course, no part of that included alcohol, in fact this cocktail was invented by a Californian hotel tycoon in the late 60s, but loopholes are loopholes, innit?” 

“This is quite possibly  _ the  _ most irresponsible thing I’ve seen you do,” He turned to the bartender, “I’ll have what she’s having.” 

The kurī nodded, placing another oko on the bar and pouring his drink. 

As they drank up the booze, the Dancehall bassline of Baddest Ruffest by Backyard Dog started to come on. Skye sat up, ears perking as she turned to Jack, “Aw nice, they’re playing it.” 

“Yeah?” 

She nodded, “They played this at my secondary’s leavers party.”

“I’m trying to remember what we had… Pricetag, I think?” Jack rubbed his head, trying to remember.

“Well,” She started, getting up, “I’m gonna go dance, you coming?” 

“I’m alright,” He replied.

Skye put her paw on her hip, “Well, put it this way: if you don’t, I’m getting a transfer.” 

Jack chuckled slightly, “Alright, alright…” 

And so, the two made their way to the dance floor. Skye bounced to the beat, whereas Jack, being a little pissed up by this point, just sort of drunkenly moshed. She chuckled, watching the hare. The music blasted out, practically thumping the ground. Jack threw in some paw action, punching the air. It didn’t really improve anything, but at this stage he was too drunk to care. Skye’s tail wagged, waving in the air as she danced along. The headache they’d have to deal with the following day wasn’t much to look forward to, but after a long month of work it felt rewarding to just get hammered and bounce around the dancefloor like a muppet. And rewarding, it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glossary: 
> 
> Muppet - An incompetent or foolish person.
> 
> And with that, the first in a collection of (hopefully) many more Jack and Skye stories is complete! I'd like to thank all the brilliant people on ZAA for beta reading and encouraging me to go through with this madness and thanks to everyone who's read to this point. Cheers!
> 
> Having uploaded this every Sunday for 11 weeks now, I am gonna take a bit of break now - so don't expect much more than one-shots until about 3 months time. Maybe longer, maybe shorter. We'll see. :P


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